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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869090">you never could control me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizmatched/pseuds/mizmatched'>mizmatched</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Death, Character Study, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Major Character Injury, in this fic - Freeform, no beta we die like tommy, tommy pls dont die in canon i will cry, tubbo is not having a fun time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:27:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizmatched/pseuds/mizmatched</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I- Tommyinnit, former Vice President, Treasurer of the state, and Right hand man to former President Wilbur Soot, do declare:</p><p> </p><p>Yo. Suck it Green Boy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>implied wilbur soot and tommyinnit and tubbo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>183</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you never could control me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello welcome!</p><p>i had to upload this a second time, after taking the first one down. it was all scuffed</p><p>i wrote this in like an hour, so sorry for any mistakes!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy stood alone, in the center of the crater that was once his home. L’manberg’s ruins were devastating to look at. He was resting on a ledge overlooking the gap that once was a nation, that once was a battlefield, that once was a forest, with a beaten-up van- and two brothers.</p><p>Tubbo was a few paces away from the crater, he was not quite standing more then he was being propped up against Dream. Dream’s sword was pressed heavily against Tubbo’s throat.</p><p>Tubbo was shaking, Dream was not.</p><p>They had an audience. Almost everyone had come to see the fighting. They watched quietly from afar, gathered in little groups around the ruins, and high in the air. No one said anything, and no one bothered to help. Even Techno and Phil had bothered to show up, Techno had jeered earlier on, encouraging Dream to slaughter them both, but now it seemed, he had been shocked to silence.</p><p>All Tommy had wanted were his disks. Two small objects. Not much, but they meant the word. They meant freedom, and peace, and hope. He had given everything for those disks, and we was willing to give everything again, for a simple chance at what the disks represented. Innocence, friendship, peace, independence. A life away from the madness and scrutiny. Sunsets and benches and soft rhythm.</p><p>The disks were gone. Burned. Just like that.</p><p>He had begged, pleaded, and demanded. In the end, Dream was stronger. They lost the fight, and Dream had laughed. Tommy remembered the sickening snap that Tubbo’s arm had made when Dream had pulled it back, only to yank Tubbo off the ground with the very same arm.</p><p>Blood, warm and thick, dripped down Tommy’s temple, and for the millionth time, he turned to the audience. A sea of mildly disgusted and interested faces stared back.</p><p>Tommy felt like a gladiator in an arena, he had lost, and the emperor stared down vicious and cruel. A thumbs down, and Dream would kill them, and thumbs up and they were spared. For the sake of the audience, it was never a thumbs up.</p><p>Except here, the emperor was Dream. The judge, jury, and executioner. Dream had asked him, the disks or Tubbo? Tommy barely had to think about it, and watched his disks burn.</p><p>The wrong move, apparently. Dream was not pleased.</p><p>Tubbo was probably going to die a horrible death, right in front of him, all his fault. Tommy felt an ache tear open in his chest. This was all his fault wasn’t it? All of this. Dream wouldn’t even allow him the quiet embrace of death. Dream found him too fun. These games he liked to play, because all of it was simply games to him, were good fun to him. Tommy wished he was dead, so very, very dead, and apparently Dream thought that making him feel that was an amusing past time. Lovely.</p><p>Dreams demands were simple and inescapable. Tommy was to come quickly, quietly and without a fuss, to the prison Dream had Sam make, Pandora’s Vault, and, if he was lucky Tubbo might live.</p><p>Tommy was so very sick of Dream telling him what to do. He was sick of him taking him away and removing all contact with his friends. He was sick of the constant manipulation. He was sick of putting his armour in a hole for this man.</p><p>But, Tubbo.</p><p>It came to Tommy, just like that, with those two words. Tubbo was the new disks. Dream would not stop; Tommy had been naive to think that he would stop after he had the disks back. Dream would find EVERYTHING that Tommy gave a shit about and use it against him until he stopped caring about everything and everyone or died. End of story.</p><p>Dream was never going to leave him alone. He was never going to stop hurting the people Tommy loved. Never.</p><p>“I think the choice is very obvious here, Tommy.” Dream smirked, the victory in his voice was sickening. “Come quietly now, be a good kid, Tommy.”</p><p>Tommy swallowed, his mouth dry, all he could taste was gunpowder. It made sense, the area around the ruins of L’manberg was still dusted in fine grey ash.</p><p>In that moment, that small fragment of time, a piece of soot climbed its way into his throat. A cough climbed up, clawing to the surface. Tommy shook with it, the urge to let it go, but he choked it down. He always did.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Silence, apart from the rumble of stones and shift of dirt in the pit, and Tubbo’s wheezing breaths, absolute silence.</p><p>“…No? I’m sorry, did I make it seem like you had a choice?” Dreams voice was steady, dangerously so.</p><p>Tommy inhaled deeply to calm himself. His lungs filled with smoke again, he didn’t cough, there had been enough smoke in Tommy’s life for him to learn to stifle his cough. In all three of the craters that l’Manberg had hosted, in Pogtopia when Wilbur would smoke, in Techno’s tiny cabin, with its small fireplace, in Logstedshire.</p><p>“Independence, or death,” Tommy quoted, lifting his head. “if I get no revolution, then I want nothing. I would rather die, then give in to you, and join your SMP.” Tommy was certain that Wilbur’s old line would make no sense to newcomers, or anyone who didn’t have context for the situation, but Dream understood. He laughed.</p><p>“L’Manberg is dead, Tommy. If your hope wasn’t so pathetic, it would be admirable. It’s gone. It had three lives, Tommy, and I took them.”</p><p>But that wasn’t true, was it. That wasn’t right.</p><p>L’Manberg isn’t gone. L’Manberg was never only a country. Never only a place.</p><p>“L’Manberg is a togetherness,” Tommy said softly, “it’s not gone. We’ve only forgot what it stood for.” Tommy lifted his head.</p><p>“The Camarvan, Dream, was only ever a drug van. It didn’t really matter. It could have stayed a drug van forever. But it didn’t. It was the people inside the van that made a country. They made it to stop you. We said, no, we said, fuck you, Dream. We said, we will be independent, we’ll do it on our own.”</p><p>It scared you, didn’t it? When we came together against you? That’s what you’re scared of, insubordination. That’s why you’re scared of me. Together, you know we can stop you. You never could control us.” Tommy could feel the eyes of dozens on him. He didn’t waver. This was it. The end. They would watch, they would see.</p><p>“L’manberg,” he cried, louder now, voice ricocheting of the empty walls of the cavern, echoing, “was about revolution! It was about freedom! The independence to make our own choices, to break away from you! Where men can go and emancipate! That was the point. We forgot that. We were too wrapped up in the politics of it all that we forgot our real enemy, you! L’Manberg isn’t dead, Dream, it’s the ideology, the practice of revolution, the idea of freedom! We only believe it too be dead because the togetherness is gone. We are alone. All because of you.”</p><p>Dream stood, deathly still. Tommy shook, meters away. His hands trembled. Dream’s mask did not give away his emotions.</p><p>“Tommy,” his voice was cold. “No one cares. No one sides with L’Manberg anymore. No one is fighting back, not anymore. I win, Tommy. I will always win Tommy. You are doomed to run and chase your tail over and over, and never catch it. I am always one step ahead; I will always come out on top. Do you want to know why, Tommy?”</p><p>It’s because you care. You care about something, you always will. You care too much, and it breaks you! The people here, they don’t care, so they are safe, I don’t care, I’m safe. You, you’re too fun Tommy! No matter what you always find a way to care about something! And I can use that. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to. It doesn’t matter if you try, there is always something. One of these days, you are going to <em>break</em> Tommy. You are going to stop caring. You are going to have nothing left to care for. I want to be the one to do it. To break you. I think its fair enough payment for the time and energy you’ve cost me.” Dream sighed, and still the crowd barely moved. Maybe they were scared, most likely, they didn’t care.</p><p>“That’s okay.” Tommy said quietly, again. “It really doesn’t matter if they don’t care about L’Manberg, freedom, anymore. I do.” Dream cackled, in that obnoxious way he did when Tommy would say something Dream could use against him.</p><p>“I know! Now Tommy, come with me.”</p><p>“I care Dream, I really do. I know you will never stop using it against me. I know, I’ve come to terms with it- I have!” Tommy sighs, he really thought maybe he’d have more time. Nobody wants this, even him. “So, this has to stop.”</p><p>Dream opens his mouth, probably to jeer about how it already has stopped, how he’s won and this is the end of the line, his sword digs deeper into Tubbo’s throat. Tommy wants to cry, so, so badly. He wants to hold Tubbo again. But he cannot. He has got a job to do.</p><p>“Dream,” he sighs “this really is the only option isn’t it?”</p><p>Dream closes his mouth with a snap. His mouth pinches in confusion.</p><p>“Truly,” Tommy says, addressing the crowd this time, “L’Manberg, my home, was more then a country. It was freedom and revolution.”</p><p>He’s quieter when he speaks next, softly even, so unlike Tommy. “I believe I deserve one last act of freedom. Of revolution, an act of L’Manberg at its truest.”</p><p>Tommy can hear Tubbo squeak around the sword on his neck “Tommy-“ but Dream silences him quickly.</p><p>“There will be no revolution for you today, Tommy.” Dream sounds almost happy, but Tommy recognises the underlying anger in his voice.</p><p>Tommy doesn’t listen. He closes his eyes and pictures a forest. A lovely mountain stands in the distance. There’s a lake and a Camaravan that smells like blaze powder. Tommy can hear the birds chirp. He can almost see Tubbo playing by the water, singing Hallelujah, lowly. He can almost hear Wilbur making potions inside the van. Tommy is happy.</p><p>He raises his hand in salute, a mockery of the great symbol it once was. He lets his feet shuffle to the edge of the cliff,</p><p>“I- Tommyinnit, former Vice President, Treasurer of the state, and Right hand man to former President Wilbur Soot, do declare:” Tommy’s voice shakes, but he does not cough, he does not stutter, he does not fail, he makes his president, his <em>brother</em>, proud.</p><p>“Yo. Suck it Green Boy.”</p><p>And he falls.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>[TommyInnit Fell From a High Place]</strong>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tbh i dont really think tommy is going to die tomorrow. i think it would be a pretty unsatisfying ending, but speculation does make good angst. i really like this concept. (watch this age like curdled milk lol)</p><p>anywho, if you liked this fic consider checking out my tumblr, where i scream about mcyt all the time. its @mizmatched</p><p>all of your comments and kudos are so appreciated. ty so much. stay safe! &lt;</p><p>edit: ok hnnnn todays stream was EPIC and so so well done. i loved. the perfect ending to the disc saga, but can i say. there were so many fucking parallels to this fic? like the line, tommy having to choose between tubbo and the disks, the prison. i have the gift of prophecy boys, i just chose to use it for angst content instead of actual theories.</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
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        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147178">But You Sure Did Try</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/headless777/pseuds/headless777">headless777</a>
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